


I'll Be There When Your Heart Stops Beating

by joelkanitz



Category: All Time Low, Paramore
Genre: Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, Cancer, Character Death, Death, Leukemia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:45:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joelkanitz/pseuds/joelkanitz
Summary: Jack and Alex meet in a hospital ward and discover they're both suffering from cancer. Their illnesses are supposed to signify an end but what if, for them, it's just the beginning? 
mibba masterpost
/
livejournal masterpost (no longer updating)





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So... I started this fic on the 11th July, 2012. It was originally posted to LiveJournal, as linked on the summary. There's eighteen chapters posted; I've been intending to finally write the remaining four for some time now, I just had to get up the energy to re-post everything to Mibba and AO3 (the two sites I now use for writing). I'm gonna be doing that over the next week or so, and once that's done, I'll hopefully dig out my USB stick and finally complete the last of this. :') You may leave comments if you wish, they're always nice to see! Below is the original author's note from when I first posted this. Wow. I'm having an absolute throwback going over these chapters.
> 
> _First chaptered fic! I got the whole idea listening to the song it's named after and then watching the video for Blink-182's After Midnight. This is just the prologue, so it's short, but I hope it interests some of you!_

I thought my world had fallen apart.

I don't know much about people. But what I do know, when they're faced with an impossible battle, their first defense is submission. Give up. Let it take you; if you were meant to win, then you will. A pathetic way to go about things, but I was one of these people.

I'd heard stories of people who, despite knowing they probably will never recover, still fight it. They can still smile. But I didn't know anyone like this. Nobody I had met over the four years I was affected had a fight-'til-the-end attitude. I didn't have that attitude either.

Not at first anyway.

My family and friends were supportive and optimistic, tried to keep me smiling and doing the everyday-type things that I loved like playing my guitar, walking my dogs... but everything had turned bleak and meaningless. I couldn't seem to play the chords right anymore, or find the effort to go out anywhere. If this was the beginning of the end, what was the point in trying to achieve anything?

But when someone came crashing into my world, my meaningless, collapsing world, I suddenly had every reason to smile again. And before long, I realised I had every reason not to give up. I realised I wanted to keep my life. It was mine; I wasn't going to let it be taken away so easily.

Other people gave up. People gave in to their enemy. People let it steal their lives before they'd even lived them.

But there was one great difference between them and me.

I had Jack Barakat.


	2. alex's pov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Alex meet in a hospital ward and discover they're both suffering from cancer. Their illnesses are supposed to signify an end but what if, for them, it's just the beginning?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original author's note: 
> 
> _Finally! I've been so excited to post this._

"Alex, baby, do you want some coffee? I'm going down to the cafeteria."

I looked up at my mother, bright as always, and nodded. "Yes please; extra cream."

She smiled and went off down the corridor towards the elevator.

I went back to reading the book in my lap, getting so sucked into my fantasy land of ancient dark magic and demons and spirits that I almost didn't hear a nurse bustle into the ward with a tense-looking older woman and an awkwardly tall teenage boy.

"If you'll please just take this bed here for now, and we'll get a private room sorted out for later, alright?" The nurse smiled a smile of pearl teeth too white for her skin tone before dashing off.

The mother looked agitated. I eavesdropped as she explained he was only getting some tests, it shouldn't take long, they'd be home before they knew it and did he feel tired or hungry? The lanky kid replied in monotone and his mother eventually left, saying she was going to make some calls.

  
I watched carefully as the boy reached into the pocket of his Blink-182 hoodie, pull out a battered blue iPod and stick the earphones in. He shut his eyes and lay back against the pillow, his fingers twitching a little as if playing an imaginary instrument to whichever song he was currently lost in.

I analysed him carefully. He was in the cancer ward, but he didn't look ill. Perhaps he'd had a recent diagnosis -- it would explain why his mother was so nervy. Lankiness aside, he was attractive. Sleek black hair fell over his forehead, styled with hairspray but looked kind of deflated. I assumed he'd been nervously running his hands through it. He wasn't dressed in the best attire -- sweatpants and a hoodie -- but neither was I; the hospital wasn't the place to be wearing nice outfits.

Deciding to make friends -- I had hours to go before my examinations -- I abandoned my book and jumped on his bed. His eyelids shot open as he bounced sideways and tumbled to the floor, limbs flailing in every direction. I grimaced and peered over the edge of the mattress.

"What the fuck?! If you've smashed my iPod I will end you..." He was grumbling more to himself than me, twisting around to see who startled him.

"Sorry, man! You flew like a little bird. Not so graceful on the landing, we'll have to work on that," I suppressed a laugh as I grabbed one skinny arm and pulled him to his feet.

"Yeah, thanks for that, asshole. Who the hell are you?"

"Alexander William Gaskarth the Wonderful, and you must be Grumpy the dwarf."

  
He stared at me as if I were crazy, which wasn't far off the truth. Spending so much time in a hospital can only do so much for one's mental health. I decided I'd try and get a laugh out of him.

"Well, I'd be using the term dwarf loosely, I mean..." I gestured at his height as he towered above me, standing next to the bed.

He was still staring at me.

"Were you born a dickhead or is it a disease you've picked up?" He sat down heavily on the bed and stared down at his iPod screen, scrolling through what looked like hundreds of songs.

"If it's a disease I had, I've definitely passed it onto you, amigo."

  
He ignored me. I guessed I was just annoying him now, which was a shame because I didn't get to meet many new people.

  
That was a lie. I got to meet lots of new people. Handfuls of them, every week. They were all a blur though, blended together as one by words like 'doctor' and 'nurse' and 'patient.' None of them had the potential to become an individual that I would remember, with the honourary title of 'friend.'

But this boy might.

"Why the long face? Sorry if I hurt you leaping on the bed like that," I said sincerely, suddenly remembering I hadn't actually apologised.

He suddenly looked straight at me, his face so serious that I couldn't glance away.

"...Are you seriously that stupid? I'm in the fucking cancer ward, why do you _think_ I've got a long face?"

"Well, no, I was just trying to make small talk, I mean..." I was at a loss for words.

  
I was used to people feeling totally defeated by their conditions -- I always did, more than I cared to think about sometimes -- but I'd never seen someone get so mad when I tried to make light of things.

He looked away from me then, pushing his music player to one side.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you but you did knock me off the bed. Today's just not a good day."

"It was my fault, I just wanted someone to talk to. What's wrong with today?" I asked, trying to sound comforting.

  
I noticed how dark his eyes were. They were brown like mine but they were veiled with thick black lashes that gave such an innocent air to his face. He had a slightly crooked nose which could have been a feature that he felt insecure about but I found it oddly endearing. I watched his lips, thin and pale, turning pink when a pointy tongue emerged from his mouth and licked them.

"I'm getting some blood taken today. I'm really squeamish about that kind of thing. I hate needles and just everything about this place." He avoided my eyes, seemingly embarrassed.

"I hated it too at first, but you get used to it, I promise," I smiled reassuringly and reached out to rub his upper back.

"I don't think I'll get used to it now."

"Sure you will! It takes some time." I felt sorry for him -- he must have been about my age, to get diagnosed right in the middle of the best years of his life must really suck.

"Dude, I've been in and out of hospitals for two years, I don't think I'm going to get used to it now."

  
My eyebrows knitted together in surprise. I hadn't expected that. He looked so healthy. Two years of leukemia had completely drained me, and now, after four years, I was practically a ghost of what I had once looked like. Which was funny, really, since in another four years I would probably _be_ a ghost. I wondered if ghosts had to worry about appearance when all they did was haunt people and clank chains but my thoughts were interrupted by an unusual sound.

The black-haired boy was chuckling, a low sweet sound that I could get used to hearing.

"What's funny?" About fourteen seconds ago he'd been moping about getting blood taken.

"You have weird eyebrows," he replied, running his index finger along one of them, making my forehead twitch.

I was mildly insulted for a minute and considered making a comment about _his_ eyebrows which weren't exactly lacking either but I wanted to hear him laugh, really laugh.

"If you think they're bad you should see my pubes," I winked.

  
And he did laugh then, really laughed. It rose up in his chest and burst out of his mouth, loud and even sweeter than before like sugar on my tongue, making me start laughing too. To share a laugh with someone is a strangely intimate thing. I felt more connected to him right there, than I had to anyone for almost a year.

It took us a good five minutes to calm down, tears threatening to spill at the corners of our eyes after a cheap joke.

When I finally caught my breath, my mind wandered back to what he'd said before. "You've been suffering for two years? What of?"

The black-haired boy sighed. "Leukemia."

  
I licked my lips carefully. I wanted to know more. It was like opening something you know you shouldn't have. A secret diary, a sealed box, a wound. Some part of me didn't want to push it further but I did anyway. I read on, I tore it open, I cut it deeper. I needed to. "W-what kind?"

"Acute lymphoblastic." He said it so calmly I wasn't sure I'd even heard him right.

"Really?" I brightened. "M-me too. I've never met anyone whose been suffering the same as me."

Jack laughed through his nose at me. "Why do you look so pleased about it?"

I bit the insides of my cheeks. "I'm not. I mean, it sucks. All cancer does. But I guess it's nice to know we're in the same boat."

Jack cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah. Well. Like I said, I'm getting blood taken today and I'm really not looking forward to it. What are you in for today?"

"Oh, just a check-up. Nothing major. But whenever I'm in for a check-up, I always end up being here all fucking day."

"My new doctor was talking about having me in for more regular check-ups too. So we might be seeing a bit more of each other," his lips stretched into a smile.

Maybe I wasn't the only one glad of company for once.

"That would be cool," I smiled back warmly and tried hard not to come on too strong. "So... new doctor, huh? And I've never seen you here before. Where did you materialise from?"

"It's kind of a long story..."

  
He looked down at the bed and started twisting the sheets in his hands. He didn't look like he wanted to talk about it. I decided not to push it, but he suddenly kept talking even though he wouldn't look at me.

"My mom decided that we were gonna move house last month, because she thought it would be 'good' for us. That was genuinely her only reason. My dad just kind of went along with it. He's an author, so he works from home and wasn't too bothered, in all honesty. Mom seemed to have him convinced that a fresh new place would be a great experience for everyone. I know what she meant though -- she thinks a new city with a new hospital and different doctors with different perspectives on how to treat me will somehow miraculously make me better. But they'll all just treat me the same. She's so stupid, she can't just accept that I'm going to die and dragging me all over America isn't going to stop it. Plus my brother and sister were furious with her. They're ten years old, for Christ's sake. They didn't want to leave all their friends behind but Mom only focuses on me now, and it drives me crazy."

I was stunned. I shuffled forward on the bed until my knees were touching his. He looked up, his eyes shiny with unshed tears.

"Hey. It's okay. You know, if you want, you could ask my mom for advice. She's awesome like that. She really won't mind. Ever since I got diagnosed, she's been great. Different people deal with things in different ways. Maybe the only way that your mom is keeping it together is by pretending you're gonna get better."

"But what about my brother and sister? She ignores them, practically," Jack sniffed.

"Like I said, ask my mom on how to bring it up with her. Maybe she needs you to talk some sense into her, y'know? She thinks she's helping you. She doesn't know how you really feel."

"Alex, I couldn't ask your _mom_ for advice. I haven't even known you for a half hour."

"She'll seriously be fine with it. And I think she'll just be thrilled to find out I've been talking to someone other than myself," I grinned and shrugged.

  
I was suddenly pulled into a bone-snapping hug. For a stick, the kid had some surprising strength in him... somewhere. "Thanks for the advice," he mumbled over my shoulder.

"Yeah, don't get sappy on me," I said, pushing him back even though I didn't want to.

He looked surprised until I stuck my hand in his hair and messed it up as best I could.

"Hey, asshole!" Jack grabbed for me, but I leapt off the bed and skidded across the floor in my socks to the little door in the back corner of the room, the bathroom.

  
Jack swung himself off the bed too and ran at me. I dived away from the door and landed on my own bed, with Jack still in hot pursuit. I tried to jump onto the bed adjacent to mine but just as I took off, Jack wrapped both arms around my legs and clung on, tight. I lost balance due to being in mid-spring and toppled down to the floor face-first. Jack let go of my legs and I'm pretty sure at that point, I managed to kick myself in the back of the head.

"Thanks for, y'know, not letting me smack my chin on the floor or anything," I said bitterly, getting to my feet with some difficulty. My head was spinning.

"Dude, you don't even _have_ a chin. Where's your jawline?!"

  
I punched him hard on the shoulder, he retaliated by giving me a Chinese burn. We were acting like kids but I couldn't believe how much fun I was having. We had both collapsed into a giggling heap after ten minutes of pinching, poking and throwing dumb insults back and forth, and that's when I heard footsteps coming down the corridor and two excited female voices.

Our mothers. Of course.

"Oh, Alex! Joyce and I were just saying that you too would probably make nice friends for each other, but I guess you already got acquainted," Mom was smiling.

I don't think I've ever seen her smile so wide, actually. Not in a long time, at least.

"I know, it will be so great. Jack, you should invite Alex for tea some time!" Jack's mom -- Joyce, I assumed -- was smiling equally as big.

"Or vice versa! I'd be happy to have Jack to my house," my mother continued.

  
Jack and I exchanged apologetic and slightly embarrassed glances and then bit back a laugh at the other's expression. We went on making weird faces at each other while our moms talked about what seemed to be every topic under the sun in two minutes flat. I noted that Mom was sipping at a cup of coffee -- _my_ cup of coffee -- whilst she was listening to her new friend.

"Jack, come on, I got the nurses to move your appointment forward. We can get your blood taken now," Joyce said suddenly, her expression anxious.

Jack groaned and stood. "It'll be over before you know it," I whispered reassuringly.

He flashed me a smile before following Joyce. My mom also tagged along, walking them out of the room, still going on about something or other. After another minute or so, they finally were able to break apart.

"Well, I'll see you soon!"

"You too! Bye! Come on, kid, better get moving."

  
As Jack walked out of the room behind his mother, he shot me a wide grin and made a blowjob sign with his tongue against the inside of his cheek and his hand curved at his mouth. I laughed and watched the boy disappear from view, around the corner.

My friend, disappear around the corner.


End file.
